Regret
by JuliansGIrl
Summary: Sark leaves town...
1. Regret

A/N: I made a slight adjustment to this story. The letter used to read 'Forever, Sark' but now it reads 'Forever, Julian'. You will discover the reason for this in the next chapter.  
  
REGRET  
  
He remembered every detail vividly.  
  
She was wearing white. He thought she looked like an angel. She was wearing the perfume he had given her for her birthday. She walked down the stairs and her face lit up at the sight of him. He was beaming so hard he thought his face would crack. And she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and he strode up to meet her. He took her hands in his own and held them over his heart. She leant forward and kissed him so sweetly he thought he'd pass out. But he found the courage to speak.  
  
"I love you. I always have. From the first moment that I saw you I knew that you were the one for me. And I never believed that we would ever make it here, but we did, my darling. Oh, how we did. And there is not a moment I would ever give up. But now there is something that I need to tell you, something that you never wanted to hear from me. But I love you too much to hide it anymore. I love you more than life itself, but I can't go on living the way we are. " At that, a tiny frown crinkled her brow, but he pressed on. "I can't live my life knowing that you won't be with me always. And so I know you never me to tell you this, but I can't hide it anymore. I want, so much, to marry you and have you all to myself for the rest of my life."  
  
At his admission he bowed his head and rested it on her shoulder, not wanting to see her perfect face, not wanting to see in her eyes that she didn't feel the same. Minutes passed, but it felt like hours, before he felt brave enough to lift his head and look at her. But he did, and instantly regretted it, as he saw the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. And in that instant his heart broke. He wished he could turn back the hands of time, and take back his words.  
  
He dropped her hands. He felt like he was dying inside. And yet, she stood there, unshed tears glinting like the most precious of diamonds. He couldn't do anything but stare into her eyes, knowing that she could see the remnants of his shattered soul, but he was powerless to stop it. He had been a fool to tell her how deep his feelings ran, and along side them, how deep his anguish.  
  
She seemed to curl into herself in that moment. As she first tear found it's way down her unblemished cheek, she shook her head and whispered the only two words that could destroy his whole life. "I'm sorry."  
  
Sark woke, jolting as though someone had stabbed him in the gut. There was that dream again. He sat up, running his hands through his tousled hair, trying to regain any semblance of rational thought. He didn't know how many more of the dreams he could tolerate. They were always the same, every night. Every night he was condemned to break the heart of the only living being he had ever been able to bring himself to love. And they were slowing wearing him away.  
  
He had sworn to himself that he would never bring himself to live a person, after seeing the torturous effects first hand. It had destroyed his mother, and now it threatened to do the same to him.  
  
He had to get away from it all, but mostly he had to get away from her. Every time he saw her all the blinding pain came screaming back to stab at him, over and over. So he would leave. Move far, far away. Start a new life where no one knew him, or what he did. He could start afresh, and forget his old life, and the pains that went along with it.  
  
He stood and flung what few possessions he had into a bag. He dressed in the first thing he saw, not caring to maintain his usual impeccable image. He simply didn't care anymore. He left his apartment wide open, not bothering to even close the door. He threw his small bag of possessions into the back seat of his car, and drove off.  
  
As he drove, he realised that he could not leave without seeing her one last time. 'One last time, and then it's over,' he swore to himself. 'One last time, and I will never have to think of her again.' But in his heart he knew it wasn't true. He would never be able to forget her.  
  
He parked and quietly stole up to her front window. He knew he wouldn't be able to face her; so looking in on her seemed the only option. He only hoped she was up that early. And for once in his life, luck was on his side. She was.  
  
He looked in at her, and all the reasons he loved her came flooding back. To him, she was perfect. And knowing this was the last time he would see her se drank in her appearance. He memorised every square inch of her face. And as he left for his car, he shed a tear, the first in a very long time.  
  
She heard the newspaper thud against her front door. As she went to retrieve it she saw a white envelope with her name etched on the front, in a heartbreakingly familiar script. She bent and picked it up, worried to read the letter enclosed.  
  
_Sorry to leave this for you to find like this.  
  
I didn't have the strength to tell you this in person, but I am  
leaving. By the time you read this, I will be gone. And I have  
no plans for returning.  
  
I know that you think what I told you was reprehensible, but I  
could not have hidden the truth for any longer.  
  
I love you, Sydney, I don't know how to stop. And everyday I  
hope the hurt will grow a little less, but I can't carry on,  
trying to live out my life, seeing you, and knowing what I lost.  
  
So I've gone, and I hope you can one day forgive me for what I  
did.  
Forever, Julian.  
_  
The note fluttered out of her grip and landed on the stoop, as Sydney Bristow struggled to fight back the tears. He was gone; all because she was frightened, worried what would happen, if she told him that she wanted to marry him too.

A/N: Come on, guys! Review. Tell me what you think! Pleease? I'll love you all forever, and you might even get an admission that Vaughn isn't as spineless as he seems... 


	2. Resolve

RESOLVE  
  
She never wore white anymore.  
  
She remembered how he loved her in white. Her told her she was his angel. And since he'd left, she'd packed all her white away, leaving grey and black in its stead. She remembered her birthday, when he first called her angel. She was wearing her softest white sweater, with a full white skirt. For the first day in a long time, she'd left her hair down as a shining curtain to frame her face. She remembered the way the grass whispered beneath her bare feet. His face had lit up as she came into his view. That was what she remembered most. His smile, no trace of a smirk that day.  
  
As she arrived in front of him, a tiny white flower drifted down from the tree above and settled in his hair. She remembered the way his soft curls felt as she plucked the flower from its resting place, and how he has suddenly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close for a kiss. She remembered how he smelled of fresh laundry and cologne. She had buried her head in his neck and just inhaled, drinking in the scent of him. She could not think of a better smell in the world.  
  
He had handed her a box, wrapped in white with a bow of silver. She remembered his impatience, like a small child, as she carefully pulled away the paper to reveal the gift inside. It was her favourite perfume, one she could rarely afford to wear. He had known just want to get her, and the kiss she gave him in thanks was so tender and sweet. She had whispered in his ear, "I know we swore never to say it, but I'm in love with you." And she closed her eyes and pulled him to her, not wanting to se his face. The embrace seemed to last an eternity, for she could not bear to see his reaction. But eventually she pulled away, to look into his clear, blue eyes. His face betrayed no emotion, and he bent to retrieve the discarded gift-wrapping. She had felt like she was dying inside, not knowing what he was thinking, until he handed her the small white card that had been attached to the gift.  
  
With her heart in her throat, she opened the tiny square to read the message scrawled in black ink. _Sydney Ann Bristow, I Love You. _Her gaze flew to his face, only to see laughter building up in his eyes. It took her a second to register that new information, and the moment was broken by his step forward, to take her into his arms and deliver the sweetest kiss they had ever shared.  
  
Sydney came out of her daydream, eyes finally focusing on the pouring rain outside the window. She glanced down, as she had done a thousand times, to read the letter she had found on her doorstep a month ago, the letter that had broken her heart into pieces small enough to pass through the eye of a needle. He had left her. And it was all because she was too afraid of the consequences she would have to face if she had admitted she had wanted to marry him too.  
  
Sydney remembered the first time she had read the letter. He had ended it with 'Forever, Julian'. That had been the line to shatter her resolve. He had never told her his name before. No matter how many times she asked to know it, he has refused to tell her, it was always just Sark. He said it was so there was always something to keep them apart, so if they were taken away from each other, it would hurt that little bit less. And so by ending the letter with his name, Sydney realised that he had gone of his own free will. And even then, a month later, that was the only line to cause the tears to flow.  
  
But what Sark would not have counted on, was that by leaving his name, it would bring Sydney to the resolution that she would seek him out, and tell him what she had been afraid to admit before. Admit to him that she wanted to marry him more than anything else in the world, no matter the consequence the decision brought about.  
  
Sydney stood up from her place in front of the window, and made her way to her bedroom. She walked through the door, past her packed duffle bag, to where her bed stood. She bent down to lift a corner of the mattress, and retrieve a yellow manila envelope. She stood once again, and shook the contents of the envelope out onto the bed. A photo with a piece of paper clipped to it, stared back up at her.  
  
The photo showed a heartbreakingly handsome man, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, walking a shaggy golden retriever sown a shady suburban street. The man had on dark glasses, and looking at the picture Sydney felt she was almost there with him, seeing his curls ruffle in the breeze, and smell his unique scent of fresh linen and cologne.  
  
She flipped to the paper attached to the photo to scan over the information.  
  
Name: Andrew McMAHON  
ALIAS: Julian SARK  
Address: 1602 Dover Ave  
Hope Springs  
IOWA  
  
Sydney then retrieved the second item that fell from the envelope. A plane ticket to Iowa. She took one last glance around her room, before moving to pick up the duffle. She made one last stop before going to open the door, past the kitchen bench to pick up the envelope she had placed there the night before. Then she walked out the door and closed it with a soft click. She walked to the door standing next to her own and taped the envelope to the door, before striding out to the waiting cab.  
  
Hearing a knock on his door, Eric Weiss shouted out, "Coming!" He picked up the twenty-dollar bill that was lying in the kitchen bench before going to open the door. Behind the door stood a tall gangly kid, wearing a pizza delivery uniform. "Large pepperoni with extra cheese?" "Oh yeah! That's the one!" Weiss replied with a groan. He could practically taste the pizza from where he stood. As he handed over the money the pizza boy said, "Hey, man, you know there's a note taped to your door right?" Weiss looked to see a cream parchment envelope taped to his door, with his name typed on it in black ink.  
  
Pizza safely in hand, Weiss shut his front door and made his way to the couch. Sinking down into its depths, he put the pizza to one side and, with a slice in one hand, he opened the envelope to read the note inside.  
  
_Eric,  
By the time you read this, I will be gone, but I need you to  
understand why I left.  
  
About a year ago, I fell in love with Sark. You won't  
understand, I don't expect you to, but I needed you to know.  
  
He's gone away and I have to go and find him.  
  
Please, don't come after me, and please make sure that my  
father doesn't either. Let him know that I am safe and I love  
him but don't tell him about Sark.  
  
My resignation from the Agency is in the top drawer of my desk.  
Could you please make sure that Dixon gets it?  
  
Thank you for being there for me, Eric. You have been the best  
friend I could have ever had, but this is something that I need  
to do.  
Love always, Sydney.  
  
_Weiss let the slice of pizza fall from his hand. He stared at the piece of paper in disbelief. Sydney had disappeared to find Sark. She was in love with him. Weiss suddenly was not hungry any more. He felt the rising dread as he thought of the consequences of her actions. He was going to have to tell her father, Jack Bristow, that she had quit the CIA and she didn't want to be followed. That wasn't going to sit well with him. But to push that fact aside, Weiss was most distressed to realise that Sydney had disappeared without a trace before he had had the chance to admit that he had fallen in love with her.


End file.
